


Crash Therapy

by Kazeit



Category: Arctic Monkeys, British Singers RPF, Last Shadow Puppets, Milex - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Teenage AU, bloody ish?, listen with wasted hours by arcade fire u wont be disappointed, rating due to content, some feedback would be really appreciated, weird af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4018012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazeit/pseuds/Kazeit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Miles rips a long strip of his own shirt and squeezes Alex’s bleeding nose with a very rough grip trying to stop it from bleeding out even more. But he only wins a hiss and a slap on his hand apart of Alex pushing him away."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash Therapy

They had run the whole street fromthe hill to the center.

Miles armpits and back are wet, Alex can’t last long standing.

Miles neither to be honest. So he sits him in the cold park bench and holds strongly his cheeks to keep him immobile.

Miles rips a long strip of his own shirt and squeezes Alex’s bleeding nose with a very rough grip trying to stop it from bleeding out even more. But he only wins a hiss and a slap on his hand apart of Alex pushing him away.

When Miles gets out the way, Alex obstructs his right nostril with his right index finger, inhales deeply, and then blows all the air through the left one. A bloody gooey mass falls to the snowy floor and Miles rises his brows and looks away.

“What about those cunts?” Miles sits beside him, out of breath and covered in sweat. It was a very uncomfortable sensation, being hot and sweating but at the same time cold because of the snow slowly starting to fall around them. “What did they want?”

“What would it be, Miles. Money, obviously” Alex talks just a little and in a very, very dry way, part because of the pain, and part because he never really talked a lot. He tucks a string of long messy hair behind his ear and Miles notices the quite large darkening bruise that starts from his right cheekbone and loses itself near the eyebrow.

“Ah” Miles nods “Why?”

Alex remains silent a few minutes, just looking at Miles’ eyes. A deadly look, might he say. Miles shuts up for the sake of his wellbeing.

“Money” And that’s all Alex murmurs, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“Okay” When miles looks at the clock, its half past midnight.

-

Miles wakes up to what seemed to be hours. His neck is stick to his own shoulder in a strange and painful angle and realizes he  _still_  is in the same fucking cold bench in which they happened to dump their tired asses before. He adjusts his view and Alex is laying down in the bench, using Miles’ thigh as a pillow and Miles is quick to notice something hot drip near his knee. He suddenly feels dizzy.

“Alex” He pinches Alex’s cheeks hardly and Alex reacts releasing some kind of hurt groan as he does.

“Alex your fucking face is all” he retains the urge to gag “Your face is all covered in your blood”

Whilst he talks, Alex brings a hand to his face and proves Miles is right. He feels a little embarrassed, but I doesn’t last long. He then breathes in vigorously and Miles turns pale as he realizes Alex is swallowing his own coagulated blood.

“I… I’ll get you home, come on” Miles babbles and takes Alex’s right arm over his shoulders and makes him walk along with him. Two steps and Alex falls miserably but Miles is fast to compose him and the trip starts again.

“You stink” Says Alex, in a husky voice.

“You swallow your own blood, nasty”

-

When they finally arrive to Alex’s empty house, they are welcomed by a soft cinnamon aroma Total darkness, and a loud, high pitched shriek that scares the shit out of Miles.

“What the fuck Alex!” he feels something heavy fall onto his foot and a string of curses followed by a few heavy breaths. He hurries to turn the lights on and laughs hysterically when he sees Alex on the floor holding his own shin and slowly turning his body from being laying on his side to be lying on his back.

“Shut up and help me, you twat” Alex hisses and Miles sighs.

“Come on… where’s your mum, though? Your dad? Miles gives his hand for Alex to hold and when he does he uses his weight to propel Alex up and then they hold to each other to not fall, and begin the horrendous trip upstairs

Alex groans and sniffs “With my grandma for the weekend”

“Okay” he says. And that’s all.

-

It’s almost 1 am when Miles achieves getting Alex up and into the bathtub on the second floor. Alex is whinny, rude, and an  _easy trigger_ , because everything made him angry. Miles knows it, and he always end up being his babysitter.

Nights like that seems to be dreams. No one never in home, just the two of them. Miles could call it luck, but Alex always came with one of these and the night was wasted in nursing and constant cries and sniffs that said:  _“I’m getting older, life is confusing, and I don’t want to die young…”_  usually from Alex, sometimes from Miles. Sometimes both at the same time.

And so… it was one of those nights.

Alex in the bathtub licking his wounds and Miles on the edge of the bathtub with his feet and only his feet inside the warm water slowly turning a gasoline colour.

“You know…” Miles begins “When Matt sees you he is gonna have a heart attack?” Miles is standing with his bum sitting on the very edge of the porcelain white bathtub as his legs are crossed one over the other, keeping him up.

The warm water covers Alex up to his little waist and he is caressing his hairless legs.

“Yeah” he answers and folds his skinny legs up to his chin, then he opens them and his upper body lowers between them as he grabs his toes with the fingers and stays like that about five or six seconds. Miles spots the chain of purple bruises decorating the pale and damp skin of Alex’s bony back. One of those little wounds looks like a lion, an angry lion.

Miles is angry.

“…You have to stop doing this” whispers, between the soft sound of a water drop, whilst looking directly to the wall.

He says it more to himself than to Alex.

When Alex is out the bath, he looks so tiny and exhausted. His slim body and long hair make him look so young and yet so. Fucking.  _Tired._ It makes Miles grimace. Still, Miles helps him get up and to wrap a towel around his waist but instead Alex just dries his hair and covers his back as he shivers. Miles have seen Alex naked so many times that his body has nothing new nor thrilling to the younger ones eyes. He is sure Alex thinks the same.

-

Alex is a crybaby.

Its 3 am when Miles outs the bathroom all cleaned up and destroyed by the tiredness. Alex is lying on his side in bed, and the bed is joint to a wall and the wall has a big window which lets the silver moonlight wash over Alex’s still body. Miles turns the lights on.

“Ah, turn it off”

“Shit sorry, mate” Miles chuckles. He is wearing a pair of pj bottoms and an old shirt and he closes the door behind him to stop the cold from enter the room. He brushes his hair and then he hurries to Alex´s bed and he never complains.

“They only wanted money?” Miles is acting as the big spoon whilst Alex remains still looking at the small snowdrops falling outside and occasionally sticking to the window. He nods slightly.

“I think, I dunno” He rubs his face with a hand, fatigued. “They were wasted, what the shit would I know? They wanted money” Miles smirks and hugs him with an arm from behind, nodding in agreement. “I really got wild when one of them touched my hair and then pulled it, but eh I kicked his balls so hard I doubt he will only have a chance to nut once every six months” Alex babbled rather quickly, chuckling tiredly before that display of –at Miles point of view-  _blinding energy._ “My face is still hurting like hell, though”

That’s what Miles liked about the way Alex talked. He always had something like that to come out with. “Then I went to get your bones out of there” Miles chuckled “again”

“Again” Alex lets out a little breathy laugh, coughing after. “It’s always the same…”

There is a light and empty silence from there, it’s only broken by the light vibrating sound of the window when the wind goes wild.

“Mi…”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you still with me?”

Miles stays still again, with a tight yet not hurting hold to the older one’s damaged hip and rising his brows. His eyes follow the trail of red and purple wounds and the strong line of his neck, his back covered by an ugly, old and bleach stained shirt. The memory of his sick beauty intensified with all those little bruises that, to Miles’ eyes, made the other lad seem more real, more  _intense._

It was his view of Alex sometimes, perhaps?

Late night fights and quiet sobs, the nights that seems like dreams.

“I think… that all my wasted hours with you… I suppose they have a meaning… a value”

Alex shuffles and now lays on his back, Miles analyzes his perfect profile.

“They have a value?”

“Yeah, all of them”

Alex doesn’t feel real. So he holds to whatever feels real to him and Miles hurriedly tries and helps. Miles takes his cheek and he steals a kiss, a lip to lip press that lasts two seconds and they are both feeling a war inside their chests.

Alex kisses him again, and Miles is quick to react. Never complaining, he never complains, he always does as Alex wants.

They don’t know what they are.

Miles is very fast. When he gains the opportunity he slips his cold and soft hands under the ugly shirt Alex wears and makes a little pressure on the chest, the abdomen, the joint of the collar bone.

They don’t know what they are, they just know they are some kind of support for each other.

Miles really does love Alex. That’s why he lets him use him.

Miles never asks.

Miles only listens.

Miles only smiles and tries his best.

Alex is afraid.

Alex is confused.

Alex thinks life is too short.

Alex needs support.

The kiss gets heated.

The nights always looks like dreams when they are together.

**Author's Note:**

> Umh, thank you very very mucho for your time, amigos. Any ask for clarification would be answered with some fries to the side and a piece of cake.


End file.
